


Let me be your extended metaphor, baby

by GayerThanATreeFullOfMonkeys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Consent is Sexy, Creeper Peter, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, F/M, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Peter is my favorite everything, Stiles likes flirting with people that could rip his throat out, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayerThanATreeFullOfMonkeys/pseuds/GayerThanATreeFullOfMonkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles didn't mean to reply to Peter's texts, it's just that he was attentive and sarcastic and Derek was SUCH an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me be your extended metaphor, baby

**Wtf was that**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging)**

**What are you talking about?**

**-Derek**

**Also, you are _not_ the god of anything.**

**-Derek**

**Ugh. Stop being cute. I'm mad at you.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**Why are you mad at me though?**

**-Derek (Don't listen to Stiles, he's not the god of anything)**

Stiles sighed heavily and tossed his phone down at the bed. He meant it to be some huge dramatic gesture but it didn't even hit a wall or bounce or anything, it just hit the comforter without a sound, which really did not match his mood at all. 

Because Derek Hale was a total asshat when it came to expressing anything realted to emotions whatsoever.

"Shit" Stiles muttered, burying his head in his pillow and wondering why exactly he had chosen  _that_ hot werewolf to have a crush on, I mean there were plenty around, it's not like  he didn't have choices. But nooo, he just had to wake up one day and realize that he  _liked_ Derek Hale, man of mystery, nice arms, and flawless eyebrows. He really wished that someone could have warned him beforehand just how hard liking Derek would be. Stiles had known that the guy had some issues with self esteem and trusting people, but hey, who didn't? Hell, some mornings Stiles could barely get ready for school because it was so difficult to look in the mirror and face himself.

He just hadn't realized that liking Derek would  _hurt_ the way it did. 

Love wasn't supposed to do that to people was it? Sure Lydia had stung sometimes, but the type of sting that is bright and hot before fading into an almost soothing nothingness. Derek hurt. He hurt like a dull ache in the back of the throat. Like a cold that never subsided. And still Stiles couldn't help but want him. He knew it was hopeless, obviously there was something horribly wrong and broken inside Derek and obviously that broken thing would cut anyone who got too close....but still...he kept creeping closer.

His phone buzzed. His heart lept for an instant because maybe, just maybe, Derek was going to stop living in denial and was going to tell him "I'm sorry I'm an asshole, do you want to make out now?" But no. Just his dad telling him that he was going to be working most of the night. Again.

Stiles picked up his phone and unlocked it, he needed some sort of distraction, he was going to go insane if he stayed in this current mindset, so with a smile that felt wrong and forced on his lips he quickly typed out a few names and sent a group message.

 

**Derek Hale is an idiotic, emotionally constipated puppy who doesn't deserve to be as hot as he is. Also someone should come over. And bring alcohol.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging)**

 

He sent the message and predictably only had to wait a minute before his phone buzzed. 

 

**Tell me something I don't know. And plz stop calling him hot. Some images I don't need k? And sorry, I can't come over, on a date with Allison and her dad is spying on us. I'll come over tomorrow if you want to talk about it.**

**-Scott (I love Allison more than you!)**

**Aw Stiles only you could make me laugh and feel sympathetic in one text. But I can't, I'm out with Scott. Oh and did he say my dad was spying? Because it's called chaperoning and tell him I'll hit him if he makes another James Bond joke!**

**-Allison (Tell my bf to play dead one more time & you won't have to play anymore)**

**I might alread b drunk but lets party 2morrow k?? & I'll give u a makeover so you can get hot eyebrow boy :))**

**-Lydia (Goddess of the science building and pretty boys everywhere)**

**  
**Stiles let out a fond sigh of relief at his friends' predictable replies (and a short laugh at Lydia's normally impeccable spelling and grammer) and was preparing to get under the comforter and try to go to sleep when his phone buzzed again, with a text from a name he really was not comfortable seeing in his contacts.

 

**Obviously.**

**-Peter**

**  
**"Fuck" The teenager breathed, he must have clicked on Peter's name when he was trying to get to Scott's. A slow trendil of old fear unfurled in his stomach at the thought of Peter, getting his stupid, childish message. Peter, the pyschopath, the murderer, the guy who came back from the dead, the guy with a sense of humor so dark that it was hard for _Stiles_ to come up with comebacks. Peter, the man who had clenched his wrist and whispered five little words to him and then listened to his heartbeat for a stammer.

He'd be as bad as Derek if he denied how badly that night had affected him. Nightmare after nightmare, whispers he could barely hear, second long hallucinations that he did his very best to ignore. And then Peter came back and it got worse. Now he could see Peter infront of him, all the damn time. And he was so alive. So intelligent and cruel and yet sometimes he smiled in a way that made it very easy to forget that he had once been the villian of the story. 

His fingers shake as they make their way across the keyboard.

 

**I did _not_ mean to send that to you. Sorry.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**Yes, but you did. And Derek just walked in looking incredibly pissed off. Maybe I should ask him what the matter is hmm?**

**-Peter**

**No!**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**Too Late. He looked at me like I had grown a second head, said "nothing" and went to his room. Such a charmer, I can see why you like him.**

**-Peter**

**Better to like the emotionless one than the psychopath.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

 

He hit send quickly and then immediatly felt his breathing speed up, oh shit why the fuck had he sent that?? To Peter of all people! There had been something insinuated in those words, something a little too true for Stiles's taste. He glanced over at the clock, numbers glowing in the dim of the room, he really shoudn't be allowed to text after midnight, his reservations (the few that he had) seemed to have flown the coop and he was floundering without them.

 

**Aw sweetheart, I didn't know you felt that way about me!**

**-Peter**

**Ugh. No. I'm going to bed.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**Mm you know saying "No" while giving me the mental image of you in bed really is doing wonders for my self control.**

**-Peter**

**.........**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**;)**

**-Peter**

**  
**And then a second later...

 

**.....Still want someone to come over with alcohol?**

**-Peter**

**  
**He wasn't thinking, he was tired and emotionally drained from the thing with Derek and that was why he did what he did. Or at least that's how he was rationalizing it.

 

**Ok.**

**-Stiles (God of fast talking and blogging no matter what Derek says)**

**  
**He sat up in bed and glanced around, searching for a shirt, because if ultimate creeper Peter Hale was coming over he wanted to have as much of a clothing barrier as possible between them. He glanced back down at his phone, at the texts from his friends saying that they couldn't come over when he was obviously upset and vulnerable, he looked at the blaringly obvious lack of recent texts from Derek and lastly at the messages from Peter. Distrubing, terrifying Peter who flirted with every person he met and seemed strengthened by each blush and racing pulse. Stiles sighed and grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it on. Sure, Peter was on the "good" side now but that didn't mean that he didn't still make Stiles shudder with every drawling "I'm an English major" thing he said.

Stiles was still sitting there wondering if he should leave a message on his Dad's phone telling him that he loves him and if he's not in his room he's most likely tied up in Peter Hale's basement when there is a sharp rap on the window. He jumps and whips his head around to see Peter drop in through the now open window, a messenger bag around shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

" _Honestly_ Stiles, you knew I was coming and your heart is still racing." Peter laughs, the lines around his smile looking surprisingly human and making the teenager stare longer than he had intended to. But he only shrugged, trying desperately to tell his body to calm down and let him do the talking. Peter's smile wavered and became something more like a smirk. "Huh, you and Derek must have gotten in to it. I don't think you've ever not responded to me trying to rile you up." He paused and came to sit at the foot of the bed, resting his back aganist the wall. "Did you finally get rid of some of that sexual tension? Because it's really been distracting the rest of the pack..."

"No! God, why do you always have to be so damn weird?" Stiles asked, voice going a bit higher than he intended as he glared at the werewolf currently in his room. "You know maybe if you stopped talking about the sex lives of teenagers people wouldn't call you pedowolf."

Peter sighed delicatly "Stiles,  _you_ are the only one who calls me that. And do you really think that a long and loyal relationship with your...." He paused and sniffed the air "right hand means that you have a sex life?"

He could feel his face burning but that didn't matter because Peter had pulled out a bottle of tequila from his messenger bag (and seriously trust Peter to still look badass even with a messanger bag) and was waving it in front of his face. "Now, would you like me to get you drunk so you can bemoan about your pathetic crush on my nephew or would you like to blush and stare at me a little longer?"

The human stared longingly at the bottle, it had been awhile since he had allowed himself to lose his worries, in fact, it had been to long. No one should have to take on as much pressure as he had. No one should have to lie all the time to their father but he did. No one should have to be in love with someone who couldn't love them back but he was.

"Why even bother asking?" He muttered, taking the bottle from Peter and unscrewing the cap to take a long gulp, eyes watering at the burn of the alcohol running down his throat.

Peter's smile windened and his eyes glowed in the darkness of the room as Stiles passed the bottle back to him. "If you haven't noticed I have a bit of a thing for consent."

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I now have a fandom blog!! Come talk to me at crossroadsbela.tumblr.com!! I'd love to hear from you guys!


End file.
